


Before The End

by WildAndFreeHearts



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:11:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildAndFreeHearts/pseuds/WildAndFreeHearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Alistair spends the last night of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before The End

Everything they were was now being counted by hours, minutes… the expansions of everything they had done in the last months seemed so vast and immeasurable when held next to the cracker-box amount of time that was now left them before the end. _‘But the end of what?’_ He thought morosely to himself. _‘The end of the Blight? Or the end of all of our lives?’_ Just thinking about it made his stomach knot and bile rise to the back of his throat. He couldn’t look any of his companions in the eyes as he practically fled the falsely comforting sanctuary of Arl Eamon’s main hall. 

He quickly made his way to his quarters, gasping in deep lung-fulls of air as he slammed the door shut behind him. He had been suffocating under the weight his friends all smiling as he held in the knowledge of his doom. If maybe his breathing was a little bit more like _sobbing_ … well under the circumstances he felt he could forgive himself. After all, one of the Grey Wardens had to die to kill the Archdemon.

He had always known that he could die in service of the Grey Wardens. But that was part of what was now destroying him – he _could_ have died. Now it he _had_ to. He couldn’t let his leader take the final blow tomorrow. Alistair had already lost Duncan, his father, to the Blight - he would not lose his brother. For surely the man who led their group was more a brother to Alistair than Cailan ever had been.

Even in theory the possibility that Riordan would be present to slay the Archdemon was slim to nil. The Orlisian Warden was still too injured from the torture inflicted by Arl Howe to stand all the trails it would take to vanquish the dragon.

Alistair moved from where he was slumped against the closed door to stagger to his bed and fall face-first into the mattress, burying   his face into the down pillows. And maybe now it wasn’t _breathing_ or _sobbing_ , it was more like _crying like a baby_.

It was then that he felt soft but sure hands running through his hair and heard kind, accented shushing near his ear as a toned body leaned over him.

He hadn’t heard the door open, so Zevran must have been in the room the whole time. But then again it was just as likely that the Crow assassin had silently broken into Alistair’s room as he had been crying. Oddly enough the idea wasn’t as frightening as it was comforting.

His tears had stopped a few minutes into the sweet petting and cooing but Alistair stayed with his face in the pillow, listening to the foreign phrases and feeling the fingers brushing his scalp. Alistair could feel each breath the elf took, the other man’s chest hovering over his back… it felt-

And then he really was gasping as he rolled over, looking up into the Antivan’s slightly startled face, as their lips _brushed._

Zevran didn’t move, but he appeared to be calculating as he looked down at Alistair. The kiss he gave the Templar in the next instant was almost punishing as Alistair whimpered and buried his hands in the elf’s long, blond hair.

Somehow it seemed right that he would spend the very last night he had alive with the assassin; it was practically poetic. One more night was all he had left, and to give away his virginity to the only man Alistair had ever met who had _radiated_ sex…

If one more night was all he had left to experience anything, spending it making love to Zevran would be an honor.

~~~

As Alistair gripped the blade and ran to plunge the killing blow he saw Zevran holding back their kicking and trashing leader as he tried to run ahead and end his own life.

Suddenly Alistair realized that Zevran had known.

As the sword sunk into the dragon’s head he locked eyes with Zevran. The Crow was crying; all Alistair could do was smile.

Then it was the end.


End file.
